At a time, a time ideal for solitary and solitude when the whirlpool of the soul is solaced by the conciliatory arms of reminiscent and nostalgically, I ramble through the memories gone to reminiscent, through the mirror of life.
Strolling on the balcony of my mind, the panoramic view of childhood ever was bliss. The Bell tolled. A call that once gathered us to gather the earth. To the banquet of littluns. I cannot go back to yesterday. I had crossed the fence; wistful valediction.
Into the world, the vicissitudes of life, took my captains away. And their ship was heaved by the whirllwind
I saw the wreckage that remains; the world in the eye of a boy was a farce; bedroom farce. In our matured imprudent mind, it was just a matter of perspective.
Coming of age, i saw the red inks on my paper. It left so muc to be d e n i e d. i rue my past; of opportunities lost, i squint at the sky that remain, I catch a glimpse of hope awaiting me. My bleat future gleamed in the dark i kept it.
To be or not to be, seemed to be the question. My subconscious mind could not lend Much hand. My soul was too weak to think. My last resort might have despised me. His unfathomable native Remaining a puzzle; I will call myself a prodigal son.
A country full of nature exciting gifts. What more does a country likes ours need even in all its natural endowment? There are a lot of silly heads who pile up in groups to harvest the products on the farm of over eighty million people what a nefarious crime. My parents say you were fresh and succulent some years back. Thaialand Young now suffer in their own land and are totally in chains and servitude deprivation corruption and total insecurity.